BREADCRUMBS
by loneranger67
Summary: ' The idea of a soul mate always sounded so romantic to you, someone who connects with you...' A reflection of Maura's view of her life before Jane came along and changed it so completely.* A companion piece to 'Leave a light on for me', so please read that as well* A one-shot, not my usual fluffy nonsense- I just had to write it.


**This is a companion piece to 'Leave a light on for me', it might help to read that first, but you could just flip it round the other way.**

**So, I found some time to think about Maura, and how her life has changed since Jane arrived in it. I always knew I got**** Jane, and wasn't so sure I could 'do' Maura in the same way , but as I wrote, she seemed to take over a little and I found a voice for her. I hope you like how she sounds.**

You've had days like this before, in fact many a day that seems to last for weeks- so much pressure to get everything done, and to get it right. But it's a pressure that you put on yourself when you know that others need answers, even if the questions aren't known yet. They need you to give them something, anything -these are matters of life and death. You smile at the irony- so much easier for you to deal with the death side of that cliche. That just sounds morbid doesn't it? But you are by no means morbid- you are just a realist. The lifeless soul on the table was someone you never knew, a stranger who before today, you couldn't care about in any other way than professionally, because you didn't know them. And they certainly didn't know you.

And if you _had_ known them would you have genuinely cared about them? Or even liked them? Maybe. You don't easily slot in with people- like a plug with one wire with a kink in it, sometimes it completes the circuit, often there's no connection at all. But someone or something ended this mans life too soon, and now he can speak _through_ you- as if at a séance, the ghostly spirit right here in bodily form, and what his body reveals are metaphorical knocks on an old wooden table- once for yes, twice for no- sawdust falling away like breadcrumbs to guide you to the truth.

If you had met this man socially you would have made small- talk, because that's what people do isn't it? Inane chatter passing the time and filling the void of an otherwise uneasy silence. You would try to think of something from popular culture as a reference- a starting point to a conversation that you'd really rather not be having – but your innate sense of obligation to _do_ the right thing even if the words don't quite fit the situation tap tap tap away inside your head and carries you on regardless.

You know a trillion facts about a million subjects, but simple, easy conversation is the one thing that flummoxes you- the one thing that makes relating to people so painfully hard, and talking about your fears and foibles, even harder. Because that means revealing your innermost thoughts, and that's only ever been one way, because no-one ever really tried to get past the fun facts, the Googlemouth. And your parents, well, they just assumed you were happy.

They saw you as unique in your intelligence, your understanding of life and your place in the world. You had all the opportunities to make your mark, to become a success. And they were right, you _are_ a success in your chosen career, you are respected and held aloft as an example to others of what greatness can come from the science of life.

But growing up you were starved of the oxygen of friendship -you may have travelled the world and seen sights that others could only ever imagine, but you never formed alliances, always on the move, never settling, never just stopping to spend time with someone for the sake of it, for no other reason than just being with them because they _like_ you, they _get _you. Because your parents were constantly searching for the next big adventure, then so were you, whether you wanted it or not. But who has one-sided adventures? Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.

The idea of a soul mate always sounded so romantic to you- someone who connects _with_ you so completely that words aren't always needed, and when they are, they are big and important, or small but just as significant.

The notion that you could connect with someone on a visceral level, that one person could have such a profound effect on your innermost self, and yours on theirs, would want to spend time with you, learn about you and _from_ you, laugh with you, might find what you think and feel about this world so utterly absorbing and fascinating- well, it would be wonderful wouldn't it? But not likely to actually happen, not in the world you choose to inhabit- a world of rigor, and scalpels and the worst of 'humanity.' No, not likely to happen at all.

Then along came Jane.

Like an earworm, she burrowed into your head, made lots of noise and shook you to life. A world that was calm and flat, with only tantalising hints of a curved horizon suddenly became adventurous and round, and you wondered how anyone could believe that if you kept walking you'd fall off the edge. She took you there and showed you that her world has no edges; it just formed a perfect circle with you in it.

Jane with her attitude and her determination, her loudness the perfect balance to your quiet, she couldn't be more different to you, really you have nothing in common but each other. But she needs you as much as you need her. She's been beaten and broken, and as much as she never wants to give in, would never admit defeat, never let anyone close enough to break down the walls she's put up around her heart, she did at least unlock the toolbox and let you find the hammer. So you slowly and subtly chipped away, cleaning up the brick dust as you went- and she didn't notice. Until suddenly, there was a gap in the bricks, just big enough for you to crawl through.

And without any fuss, she let you in, appreciating the effort it took to get you there. The Lone Ranger had let Tonto on the horse.

Now, you cannot conceive of a life without Jane- the sanctuary of Jane. The irony that a woman sometimes so loud and volatile could bring you so much peace is not lost on you- because you calm her and you are her world, just as she is yours.

After a day like today, a day that seemed like it might never end, and with the rain lashing against the windows, you know she has followed the trail of breadcrumbs you left her, and she is just outside.

Just waiting to be let in.

**Let me know what you think by reviewing, I really do value your opinion. **


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